Hey there. You've found the tenth installment of a murder-filled work of fiction which I have conveniently left untitled (your title suggestions and comments are welcome!). I began writing this over a year ago but you might be better served by reading the pages in order.
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Officer Grove walked through the open sliding glass doors on to the deck and began looking over the area for anything out of the ordinary. Lead Investigator Kline turned his attention toward the shrubs where he had discovered the blood-soaked rag and began photographing and collecting evidence as well.“I’ve covered the whole area.” Miranda yelled out. “How about you, Danny?”
“Yeah, nothing huge but just like any other case, you never know what even the tiniest piece of evidence will lead to. On to the garage, Miranda?”
“Let’s see what we find.” Miranda walked down the steps of the deck carrying her crime scene kit.
“Once we’re done in here,” Danny said as he looked at Miranda, “we can check in back at the station and call it a week.”
“Damn,” Miranda said as she pushed her hair back behind her ears, “I don’t think I’ve been looking forward to the weekend this much for years. A case like this really puts things into perspective.”
“How so?” Danny asked as he examined the burgundy Lexus LS300 parked in the garage with a flashlight.
“I don’t know,” Miranda said as she began to look for the right words. “I just look at something like this -- something about relationships -- and I start to wonder.”
“Wonder about what?” Danny asked, still focused on Ms Jenkins’ car.
“I don’t know,” Miranda paused, “It just makes me wonder “what if?”
“Huh”, Danny said under his breath as he proceeded combing over every inch of the garage’s contents.
“Hey,” Miranda sort of shouted out, “I’ve got prints on the passenger side door handle!”
Danny moved around to the same side of the car that Miranda was investigating.
“Dust the entire door for prints,” Danny instructed, “I’ll see what turns up on the inside.”
“Obviously if there are prints here, our victim was either a passenger in her own car or had a passenger,” Miranda said as she continued pulling prints from the burgundy Lexus, “and I think we both know that a woman like Jenkins likes to be in control. These could be the murderer’s prints.”
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Be sure to check back each day for another page of this fictional work in progress.
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